Painted Faces
by 02AngelBaby75
Summary: A young girl living in a certain Baseball Furies' apartment tries to become friends with the green faced leader, Thurman.
1. Chapter 1

Every night I would hear his footsteps, going past my door. I wondered, _Who would be leaving so late at night? Weren't most people in the world sleeping? Like I was supposed to be?_I never slept very well at nights, I'm not sure why. And I was always really tired because to get to school every day I had to walk up a really steep hill, which was terrifying to go down in the winter. I broke my arm that way. Anyway, every night except some, I would hear the footsteps.

_Riverside, NY May 18th, 1978 7:31pm_

The first time I actually saw him, I wasn't scared. I thought he looked funny, because I had never seen someone with a green face before! Maybe he was in the circus! I had never been to a circus before, but I would love to. I used to have a rubber chicken; maybe I should find it and give it to him. My mom was with me and when she saw him walking towards us to the stairs, she gasped and put her hands over my eyes. I giggled because I was taller than her so she had to stretch to reach me. She didn't take them away until was gone. I asked, "Why did you do that? Didn't you think he was funny?"

Mom grumbled something. "That's not funny," she said. For some reason she was never nice, and I didn't know why.

"Why was he not funny?"

She took my hand. Hers was shaking, she was more afraid than mad. I was able to tell the difference. Then she let go after squeezing it. "People like that will slit your throat without thinking twice."

I touched my throat, and I thought I very much would hate walking around with it cut.

_Riverside, NY June 3rd, 1978_ _4:50pm_

The next time I saw was a month later, about. I was not good at remembering things. Sometimes I forgot my birthday, even my age. My birthday I could still not remember, my age was seventeen. Seventeen. After sixteen and before eighteen. Three away from twenty, then five away from twenty-five which is half way to a fifty which is half way to 100, and then I would be dead.

This time I was alone. It was after school, and Mom was at work. Because I was always forgetting, I left my house key at home, so I was stuck outside my apartment with nothing to eat but a soggy peanut butter sandwich and nothing to do but math homework, which was hard. It was a very boring day. I made a spaceship out of an eraser.

Maybe ten minutes later, Apartment #15's door opened, and stepped out, locked it. He did this all so quickly and quietly it made me shiver, like I needed to put on a sweater.

He was taller than I remembered; wearing a baseball uniform a Yankee would wear! When Dad still talked to me, he would take me to the park and throw a baseball and I would try to hit it with a stick. I never did, though. But Dad didn't care.

He also had a bat, which is what you were really supposed to use instead of a stick, obviously. It was cradled in his right arm, the wider end tucked into his palm, the other end against his shoulder. His hands looked eight times bigger than mine. I couldn't remember my times tables very well to say so.

When he started to get close to me, my hands went straight up to my throat without me telling them to do that. didn't look at me, he just walked right past very quickly. He smelled like paint. He had black and grey Converse on.

Even when he had gone down the stairs and I knew he was really gone for good, my hands stayed where they were for a long time.

_Riverside, NY June 10th, 1978 7:922am _

I hadn't heard the footsteps in a couple of days. I listened extra hard when I was supposed to be sleeping in bed, but still nothing. I asked, "What happened to Mr. Greenafce?"

"Mr. GreenFace?"

How did Mom not know? I didn't explain it to her. _Pudding, pudding, pudding_. I ate chocolate pudding when I was worried.

_Riverside, NY June 12__th__, 1978 10:46pm _

I stayed up late and watched from the stoop of the window for him. It was so dark by now I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I tried, but it's not like it would be interesting, would it? It was around eleven, I think, because I have been practicing reading clocks. I used to be very good at it, I was normal, until I forgot how to be normal.

I fell asleep, and when the side of my face smacked into the window I woke up. Outside, sitting on the steps, was a bunch of other GreenFaces. At least I think, I couldn't see their faces, their backs were turned to me, but they all wore Yankee uniforms, so it must be like the Painted Faces Baseball Circus! When I squinted and looked really closely, I could see a yellowy orange patch on their backs, with the word fancily written, _Furies_.

So the Painted Faces Baseball Furies Circus! If that were true, why hadn't they done anything funny yet? I watched them until they walked away, still not finding my Mr. GreenFace. I really wanted to eat some pudding, but by now I was almost dead from tiredness.

_Riverside, NY June 13__th__, 1978 8:17pm _

I used my allowances saved up, which was $19.76, more than I ever had saved up at once, since I got hurt, to buy green face paint. I didn't know what I was going to buy with the rest of it. I had a job for a few days at McDonalds, but I lost it all in a poker game when I was normal. My boss found out and fired me. They even took my hat. I can't remember what working there was like.

Outside of Apt. #15 was where I left it. I meant to have it stand up on its own, but then I accidentally kicked it when I stood up and it fell into the door, loudly, or maybe it sounded loud to my ears because it was so silent around me. My hands again went to my throat and I ran as fast as I could, past five doors, to Apt. #10, nine steps when I ran and seventeen when I walked slowly. The next day the paint was gone. I hoped he was happy.


	2. Chapter 2

_Riverside, NY July 5__th__, 1987 1:50am _

_Take me out to the ball game  
>Take me out with the crowd.<br>Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack  
>I don't care if I never get back<em>

He was with another one, who was skinner than he was, but wore the same baggy striped clothes. His face was painted half black and half blue, his lips all black. Mr. GreenFace's paint was much more frightening to me, or maybe it was because I had never seen him smile and was smirking just a little at me. My hands stayed down. Mr. BlueFace kept going by. He was swinging his baseball bat back and forth at his side.

I felt something stab me in the ribs, not enough to hurt me very badly but enough to let me know that he noticed me. I cried out and kept my head down as he walked past me and inside.

_Let me root, root, root for the home team  
>If they don't win it's a shame<br>For it's one, two, three strikes, you're out  
>At the old ball game<em>

I kept singing anyway. It made me feel better, but my ribs hurt so bad it was a little hard to breathe. I had eaten three puddings already and the cupboard only had one left, which I was saving for tomorrow before I went to buy new ones. Mom was at a Fourth of July party and she thought I was sleeping. I sat on the steps until came back. I wanted him to notice me singing what his favorite song probably was, but it seemed to me like he didn't enjoy it much.

Across the street I counted seven birds, two in the tree, four on the ground, and one on the telephone wire. I got up to go to sleep, but when I turned around he was standing there.

It frightened me so badly, if I had been holding a spoon I would have dropped it. Strangely, I was holding a spoon and so I did drop it, ha-ha. The clanging sound made me flinch, but Mr. GreenFace didn't blink. He had the bat in his right hand and kept smacking it in the open palm of his left hand. His face was unreadable, I couldn't tell if he was mad or happy or what. That's what scared me the most. I counted how many steps until the door from where I was, three stairs, plus seven if I ran, ten steps. I couldn't tell how many it would take to get around him, though. But what would be the point if he could just knock me out with one swing? Even if I wanted to run my feet felt glued to the pavement.

Then he smiled a smile way too toothy to make me feel safe. "The face paint. You?"

The sound of his voice was much more ordinary than I expected. He was calm, quiet and relaxed, maybe even shy sounding. He didn't sound like he wanted to hurt me.

Dumbly, I shook my head up and down. "Yes."

The smile grew, and I swore this time it seemed more real than the last slimy one. "Thank you." The swinging had stopped and I hadn't noticed until then.

"You're welcome," I said. My heart was pounding in my ears, I swore I was going to faint. He nodded and walked inside without looking back.I watched that word, _Furies_. "Wait!" I called after him.

He stopped dead in his tracks to glance back at me without any real interest. Did he not like me because he knew I was screwed up in the head? It wasn't my fault, Mr. GreenFace. "What's your name?"

After a minute of oddly loud silence, save for the crickets, he said," Thurman." The pride in his voice I noticed easily.

"Thurman," I repeated. "I'm Milty. I live five doors from you."

Mr. GreenFace, or Thurman, said, "Yes."

Once he was gone, I sat on the steps again and picked up the spoon, put it in my pocket. Something told me this wasn't going to be the last Thurman will see of me.


End file.
